Thunk.Plink.The sound of a droplet striking the blade resounds around the cavern. Some distance away Niklas grinned. It was a little hard to see at this distance, but the droplets passed barely a hair breadth in front of the makeshift wooden target. It would only ring off the knife like that if it had been a particularly good strike.

Letting out a happy chuckle, Niklas stepped up to the turned-over bucket and retrieved the throwing knife from it. He slipped the blade beside the other two on his belt. He looked up to the ceiling of the cavern where the water was dripping down. "I really hope that doesn't become a problem later on..." he mumbled, before pulling the hood of his buff jacket up. He then turned and went towards the exit of the cavern. He then made his way west, towards Icehome.

As Niklas stepped out he found himself beset by a howling gale, wind carrying snow and chips of ice blast in off the northern sea, and the land is getting a steady covering of ice and snow. Fortunately the gale is not yet so bad as to turn a man about and Niklas is able to find the road to Iceholme easily enough.